


The Birth of Her Animal

by Ma3landra



Series: The Furyan's Mate [2]
Category: The Chronicles of Riddick Series, The Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury
Genre: Extremely Underage, F/M, First Time, Minor Character Death, Mutual Masturbation, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-01 10:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10920279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ma3landra/pseuds/Ma3landra
Summary: Sequel toMine. The four of them survived the dark planet. Now to survive the merc ship.





	The Birth of Her Animal

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of non-profited fiction so please hold it as such and know I make no financial gain from this. Everything belongs to David Twohy, Tom Engelman, Jim and Ken Wheat, Vin Diesel, Rhiana Griffith, Keith David, Radha Mitchell, Roger L. Jackson, and Tress MacNeille. I’m just playing around with the characters and story plot.  
> 
> 
>   
>  **Please note THERE WILL BE UNDERAGE SEX. If that is not your cup of tea, then please don’t read after the SECOND basic horizontal line. There will be no other warning.**   
> 
> 
> Also, I haven’t written anything sexual in a _LOONNNGGGG_ time… Sorry if it’s underwhelming. 

* * *

**Galactic Coalition Star-Date 2678.117**  
  
“Hull breach contained. Engines operating at 170% capacity. Engine and hull failure imminent under current parameters.” In the dark reaches of space, Riddick and the other three survivors huddled in the skiff listened to the AI’s voice ring out ominously. Beeping and flashing lights were the repercussions from the hook that had been shot through one of the already damaged wings. As all of this was going on, everyone was thinking of Jack’s off-handed remark. _Could even be a merc ship._ “Critical systems failure in five seconds… Four seconds… Three seconds… Two seconds… One—” Riddick finally cut off the engines.  
  
The convict looked back at Jack, steepling his fingers together. “First you’re a boy, then you’re a girl, and now you’re a psychic. Careful what you wish for, sweetness.” She grinned sheepishly at him.  
  
A man’s voice came over the speaker. “Unidentified craft, state your purpose and contents.” Fry looked nervously at Riddick from the copilot’s seat. “Unidentified craft, state your purpose and contents.” The unknown man’s tone had gotten sharper, more frustrated. “Unidentified craft, state your purpose and contents.”  
  
Finally, Riddick answered the call, keeping visual off. “Name’s Johns,” he replied smoothly. “My ship got scrapped on a transport run. The only other survivors from the whole mess are with me. Outside of that, we got nothing.” Jack’s stomach growled, as if on cue and she flushed, hoping only those on this side of the call had heard it. Two and a half days without even water to drink was not the worst she had suffered with but it certainly wasn’t the best conditions either.  
  
“Tell me, Mr. Johns,” the voice came back to them, the tone oily. “What brings you to this lonely corner of space?” Riddick could tell by the man’s tenor that he did not believe the lie.  
  
“I’m a bounty hunter.”  
  
There was a pause. “Then it appears we have something in common.”  
  
The ship jerked and the four passengers could feel themselves going backwards. Fry’s face showed her panic. “They’re reeling us in,” she gasped, unnecessarily.  
  
Jack turned her face up towards Riddick, trust shining brightly in her hazel-green eyes. After the last four days, she had utter faith for him to keep… well, at least _her_ safe. He lit up a handheld lighter and pressed the sputtering flame to the lone surviving cutting torch as they heard metallic noises echoing off the hull of the skiff. With the torch lit, the docking pilot’s voice made him pause for only a second. “No offense but I don’t think that’s gonna cut it against whatever it is that’s coming for us.”  
  
He glanced at her. “Trust me.”  
  
Then there was blackness as extinguishing foam flooded the cabin, pushing the girl towards the ramp. Jack gasped and closed her eyes and mouth before the stuff could blind or suffocate her, her arms moving through the thick lather and touching a large body in front of her. The hand attached to that form gripped her wrist and tugged her towards him, back into the body of the skiff before he turned towards the ramp. The pressure suddenly gave and the convict let her go, digging his boots into the grating beneath his feet and launching himself forward. Insulated as they all were, the other three survivors could hear the gunfire and screams even now.  
  
Carolyn Fry had never been gladder to know that Richard B. Riddick, convicted murderer, was on her side.  
  
At least, for the moment.  
  
Riddick moved through the foam, sinking his shiv into all the bodies that had gotten stuck when the ramp opened. He heard Jack kick upwards, swimming to the break the surface to suck in a fresh breath before he grabbed her back down, narrowly saving her from being shot in the head. Imam was also successful in refreshing his lungs. Carolyn Fry shouted when a bullet skimmed her cheek. The blonde sunk back down before she could be wounded further, her blood saturating the thick froth.  
  
Freeing himself from the foam fully, the convict used the limited gravity to whiz back and forth through the hangar bay and continue to kill all idiot fucks who tried to tangle with him. The last one struggled to breathe beneath his grasp and he froze, seeing the mostly white clad figure standing over Jack from the corner of his eye, an enormous weapon pointed towards her forehead, the added blade nicking her skin a bit. He snarled. He was going to have to teach her so much to be able to keep up with him.  
  
Riddick snarled, addressing the tall figure watching it all from above, “Call off your lapdog before his trying to impress you gets him killed.” He ignored the weak punches of the merc within his grasp.  
  
The person, also clad almost entirely in white, a woman it turned out, replied sultrily, “Am I so obvious?”  
  
“Call it what you want, but tell him to stand down, now.” The animal, which had risen to the surface for the fight, now had its hackles raised though there would be nothing he could do if that bastard pulled the trigger.  
  
The woman’s hood and then the rest of the cloak slid back on its own as she replied, smirking, “You’ll have to excuse Junner’s excitement. It sometimes makes him a touch… quick.” She made a movement of her hip as if to emphasize this point. “Though I can’t say I blame him. You see, he’s just heard so much about you… _Riddick_.” He tilted his head up further and glared at her through his black lenses. “Yes, I know your name. Quite a bit more about you, I should think.” She put her hand on her hip, taking on an air of smug superiority.  
  
He sneered in response, keeping careful tabs on his Mate. “Careful,” he warned her, voice deeper with bubbling rage. “You might just find what you’re digging for.”  
  
The woman lifted a shoulder. “I’m willing to share, of course,” she replied silkily, “but I must ask that you surrender your weapon before any more of my… apparently _overpaid_ associates come to an untimely end.” The dozen and a half bodies floated where they had died at the convict’s hand.  
  
Riddick retorted, “Not gonna happen.”  
  
“No?” Antonia Chillingsworth raised a brow, knowing she still that she had the upper hand.  
  
Riddick did not look at the thirteen-year-old as he stated, “The _kid_ … is nothing to me.” He hoped that the fact that he covered up her gender would help her see through his lie. He was also not about to oust her again, if he could help it. It was likely, _if_ he died, she would be tossed around between the male mercs before she was killed.  
  
The woman goaded him. “Then enlighten me,” she purred. “Why would a stone-cold killer such as yourself go through all of the trouble of keeping the likes of him alive? Unless, of course… you’ve grown attached…?” Riddick realized there would be no winning this but decided to continue to attempt to find a way out anyway. Just in case.  
  
“He’s a cover story, nothing more. You shoot him now and you’ll be saving me the trouble.” Jack had tears in her eyes from the pain of the gun’s blade pressed into her head, though she had yet to make a sound.  
  
The woman continued to smirk. “Then I have your blessing?” It came out more as a statement as she turned away. Finally, Jack whimpered quietly, the blade gouging deeper. Hearing the trigger beginning to get squeezed, Riddick turned about and threw his shiv with deadly accuracy at the gun before it could be fired, which would in turn make the weapon explode should the bullet be released. The woman threw a parting shot at the convict, her voice still as haughty as ever. “Maybe I know more about you… than you do yourself.”  
  
He was going to kill that self-righteous bitch.  
  
He snarled after her, “Now just ain’t the time.” Riddick stood up and used his foot to break the merc’s neck that he had been holding to the ground. He ignored the call to be locked down and strode over to his Mate, snarling quietly at one of the mercs he had missed who was manhandling her. He got an elbow to his face for his trouble and had to resist going for the jugular before Jack paid the price. Imam and Fry were also manhandled out of the extinguishing froth and corralled closer to them. “Put your hands behind your head, kid,” he growled, “and don’t resist them… too much.”  
  
Jack hissed as a gun barrel was shoved painfully into her back, the metal digging into a knob of her spine and cringed into the convict. He took note of the brunet obese merc and made a note to kill him especially.  
  
Being loaded onto a prisoner-transport cart, his wrists were shackled together and then to the metal he was pressed back into, once he stepped onto the foot rest. His neck was then strapped down as well as his ankles. The corner of his mouth quirked when his girl looked over him in worry. He had been in hell of a lot worse situations than this. At least they hadn’t insult to injury by shoving another bit into his maw as well. Still, it _was_ nice to have someone care for him.  
  
Finally, the four of them were led like cattle into the belly of the ship, the mercs their over-armed shepherds.  
  
Fry looked about in surprised if slightly horrified wonder as they passed through the cryo hall where they could see thousands of mercs were suspended within stasis tubes, all awaiting to be awakened and used for their deigned nefarious purposes. “This is a merchant ship… it’s usually used for mining ore, maybe crops, never people,” she muttered aloud. “Have either of you ever seen something like this before?”  
  
Imam shook his head while Riddick responded, “Merc ships? Plenty.” He continued to turn his head back and forth while he took in everything and started to build a sketchy plan together so he could at least grab Jack and escape. “Just trying to figure out how it all goes together.”  
  
“It is a plantation operation,” the Chrislam priest surprised them by his wealth of information about such things. “A boat like this loads up at port, signs on as many hands as it can hold, then goes out for months, maybe even years. However long it takes to refill its stores.” The murderer hummed in understanding. “Captured bounties on one side, contracted manpower on the other.”  
  
Fry added, “Just add heat.” Jack smiled wryly.  
  
Riddick gave the older man his full attention. “You know a lot about this shit… for a holy man.” It wasn’t a blatant accusation but the demand for an answer was clear.  
  
Imam shrugged. “I hear things.”  
  
They exited the cryo hall and came to a fork in the road with only two options, unless they wanted to go back the way they came. Jack finally spoke up, leaning into Riddick, hazel-green eyes flitting between the mercs surrounding them. “So what’s the plan?” When her Mate didn’t respond right away, she attempted a different tactic. “…You’ll find me, right?” He met her gaze with his own and the corner of his mouth quirked up in silent response. “Good, ‘cause – hey!” she shouted as one of the mercenaries grabbed her and began to forcibly shove her from the convict. He swallowed a growl, hearing her call after him, “If you don’t find me, I’ll find you. I won’t leave without you, Riddick!”  
  
The convict breathed out and promised that if they touched one hair on her head, he was going to gut every single last one. The animal agreed vehemently.  
  
“Set him down and leave.”  
  
Riddick stretched his neck as he stepped off the prisoner transport after having been released from most of his bindings. The manacles were still clamped tightly about his wrists. He descended the steps and let out a noise of surprise at seeing the architecture of the chambers he was in. In the center of the room, expanding towards the ceiling, was a large, swirling platform with a multitude of what appeared to be weirdly positioned figurines going up the ever expanding spiral. He followed Junner some ways as he took in the artwork. Coming to one of the effigies located on the floor around the gallery, he furrowed his brow upon seeing a placard located on the plinth, inscribed with **Killer of Men; Furya**.  
  
_‘Never heard of Furya,’_ he thought to himself. The statue looked so lifelike. He wondered what it was made of and reached up to touch the tongue in the mouth opened partially in a silent yell only to see the appendage move slightly, causing him to draw back his hand quickly.  
  
Off in the distance, he heard the _clink_ of a crystal goblet being placed down onto a table. He turned his gaze toward the source of the noise, seeing doors open upon Antonia Chillingsworth, only to grunt when something pierced the side of his neck and a little metal object was imbedded. He snarled at Junner. “Okay… now you have my attention.” And that was not a good thing.  
  
The voice of the female called out from behind his back. “A necessary precaution,” she assured him, sauntering towards the men. “You attempt anything… uncivilized… killing me – for instance, and I detonate the explosive charge Junner’s just implanted into your neck and sleep very well tonight.” She smirked. “Now… walk with me.”  
  
Seeing no other option, the convict did as instructed, though it grated heavily upon his nerves.  
  
“You’re not putting me on a pedestal,” he rumbled.  
  
She glanced back at him, replying, “No, of course not. You will be strictly for my private collection.”  
  
“Okay,” Riddick muttered, “so you go through all the trouble to catch these guys and _this_ is what you do with them?”  
  
Antonia smiled indulgently. “You’re missing the point,” she replied gently, leading him deeper through the gallery.  
  
He snorted. “What point?” he demanded, ever aware of Junner at his back. “You got a million UD’s sitting around collecting dust.” When had the creed shifted from greed?  
  
“You underestimate their value, Riddick,” the woman insisted, pausing and turning back towards him. “They are priceless. Each, at one time, the most wanted man or woman of the known universe. The number of lives ended at their hands of those living and breathing within this room is… incalculable.”  
  
“Ain’t what I call living,” he reported instantly.  
  
The woman caressed the nearest statue’s jaw even as she met his goggled gaze; the flesh and muscles moved gently as it would were he unfrozen. “Just the same, I assure you, they are all very much alive. Each one sustained in a form of cryo so profound that seconds seem like weeks and to blink an eye is a day’s work. The brain, however, continues to function unimpeded. The mind continues to think and feel, swarming with whatever dark thoughts he or she are trapped with as it will be for hundreds of years. So much more fitting than rotting away in some isolated slam, don’t you think?” Antonia gave the cheek one final pat, adding, “Here, they are appreciated for what they truly are…” She led the two men through a curtained off area where a sumptuous viewing deck was set up, a curtain hiding an arena below. “Transformed into objects on par with their life’s work. And why? Because I gave them the audience they so desperately desired. I gave them the recognition they bought with the blood of others. I turned them into…” with a flouring of her arms, Chillingsworth announced, “art!”  
  
She had to be fucking kidding him. “Lady… your taste sucks.”  
  
The woman lowered her gaze and sighed regretfully. “I expected as much.” She shook her head and then met his eyes once again. “Come, I want to show you one in particular.” She directed him over to one particular statuette by the chaise lounge. There were two beings entangled together. It appeared to be the only one of its kind. “This one is one of my favorites… for its _sentimental_ value… A Furyan warrior and his Terran lover.” There was that title again. “When we captured him, he fought harder than ever before to protect his Soul Marked Mate but he still could not defend her… or himself. Granted, I considered just disposing of her as she is nothing but a regular, pathetic human but… the romantic in me could not bear to see them separated. So, now they will be together forever.” The frozen male had a look of utter rage upon his features and he was half crouched, one of his hands supporting himself upon a waist-high stone to his right. The other was wrapped tightly about the female’s throat, her slim body laid helplessly beneath his own upon a shaped boulder, this one large enough to be a natural chair and slanted to help prop her up and keep her close but not touching her paramour’s body. The look of pain from having her neck squeezed by the man she loved made Riddick want to snarl, mind instantly flicking to Jack.  
  
Before he could react, Antonia called the name of her lackey and the curtain hiding the arena was lifted, though from his vantage point, he could only see three chains hanging from the ceiling. _‘That had better not be what I think it is,’_ he thought, animal snarling.  
  
“You see, Riddick,” the woman gained his attention once more, “there’s a fundamental difference between you and I. You don’t appreciate art. But I believe the reason for this is something very different than what you or anyone else may think.” The convict jerked his head from her grasp. “You’re an artist.”  
  
She was kidding, right? “I’ve been called many things in my lifetime,” he informed her. “That’s definitely not one of them.”  
  
Chillingsworth explained. “You _make_ art, Riddick, not analyze it. You shape it with your own hands – carve it out of flesh and bone. But a man like you does not understand something like this by being lectured. You must experience it for yourself.”  
  
Riddick turned his head to inspect the arena and cursed quietly to himself. There, below, was Carolyn Fry, Imam Abu al-Walid, and Audrey Jacqueline Badd. His Jack. Attached to the chains hanging from the ceiling were collars about their necks and they three stood precariously on gigantic balls. One false move and they would strangle themselves unless released, via unlocking the metal noose or death.  
  
“I knew you’d find me,” Jack called up to him, her voice shaking with nerves.  
  
“What do you want?” Riddick snarled, not taking his eyes off his girl.  
  
Chillingworth stepped up beside him. “To watch you work. To protect your own Mate.” His muscles tensed. “Yes, the men found a Mark upon _her_ flesh and I had heard yours only appeared about thirteen to fourteen years ago. She is the proper age and she is one of the sole survivors from the Hunter Gratzner’s untimely crash into a planet marked for the MaCoy Company’s bio-weaponry testing grounds.” _**That’s** what those bio-raptors were?_ “Very creative of you, shaving her head and dressing her as a boy. Alas, it was only a matter of time before her secret was discovered with your handwriting upon the small of her back no less. Now, you’ll have something to fight for. Now, to what I desire… I’ve spent the latter half of my life observing fantastic things. The work of terrible men. Men such as yourself. But… it’s always afterwards, when the moment of bloody creation is cold and past.” She moved past him and to the lounge. “That changes now.” She sat slowly as doors at the far end of the area slowly opened. “I need to see it, Riddick. I need to see it with my own eyes… as it happens.”  
  
Riddick allowed himself to approach the woman, staring down at her with a murderous look upon his face. “I get out of there alive,” he promised, crouching down so there was less than a foot separating them, “and you’ll see it again. This close.”  
  
The woman had the audacity to smirk. “No, Riddick,” she gently maneuvered his face away, the point of his shiv pressed into the underside of his jaw. “I want your masterpiece.” He snapped upright, away from her. “An artist is nothing without his instrument.” She tossed the weapon to the floor, beside his feet. He retrieved it, appreciating the bio-raptor’s tooth even more now than he had on the planet’s surface.  
  
Seeing Junner standing protectively in front of Antonia, he made another promise. “When we meet again, I’m going to bury this in your eye.”  
  
Sliding his goggles up onto his forehead and turning away, Riddick prepared for what was coming next. He took the merc that had touched Jack down into the arena with him, using the fat man to break his fall. Immediately, he crossed over to his girl, making sure she was alright for the moment before he turned to the two open doors where his opponent would emerge.  
  
“This is bad, isn’t it?” Jack murmured.  
  
“Give it a minute.” Finally, he saw the creatures, both of them, and cursed once again, this time internally. “Imam… pray.”  
  
Carolyn was shaking upon her ball, being the closest one to whatever the murderer would have to face off against and then cried out when they lit up, their long tentacles glowing green, blue, purple, and pink. The merc on the ground was also panting, sweating and crying because he also knew what they were and he knew, instinctively, he was going to die.  
  
The man fired off a few dozen rounds and paused, wondering if he had killed it. The tentacles of one Shrill shot out, lighting up once more with its movement and wrapped about his obese body, lifting it easily and bringing it closer to its core. One of its stingers shot out and buried itself deep into his belly, pumping its victim with acid, reducing the man to guts and gel.  
  
Carolyn screamed, rolling her ball towards the other Shrill and grabbing her noose to attempt to not choke herself. The creature dodged it and continued forward, towards her. Riddick ran past the docking pilot’s kicking feet and darted past two of the tentacles, slashing his shiv. The third arm caught him in the stomach and sent him flying back into Jack’s only means of safety. The girl screamed as the world shifted out from beneath her and she began to suffocate from the metal noose digging deeply into her throat. Imam tugged his cord and realized he could move himself about and rolled his ball beneath her feet, slowing the sphere down so he didn’t put both of them in peril instead.  
  
Meanwhile, Carolyn screamed once more until the second Shrill’s stinger pierced her body and the blonde woman, the only female and surviving crew member of the Hunter Gratzner was no more.  
  
Having a better idea what he was working with, Riddick attacked once more, slicing at the ends of the tentacles slashing at him from both sides successfully nicking each one that came into his personal bubble. The first Shrill came after the two remaining humans and Imam had better success in rolling their ball and knocking the creature farther away from them. Still, they struggled, as they had no support beneath their feet. Riddick snarled, hearing the whimpers of his Mate and turned about, running, jumping, and slashing the cords. The two fell and she panted, regaining her breath. “Get her on her feet,” he commanded. Imam told the younger man he could not see. “You don’t want to.” The convict turned back to the two creatures. He needed to get this done, and soon.  
  
The next slash of the closest creature’s tentacles helped break the manacles around his wrists. This gave him a better advantage to finally dispatch one of the Shrill, with the help of Jack who rolled one of the balls into the monster. _Good girl._ He was snagged by the last remaining Shrill and struggled to break free. He _would not_ die here, like this. If he did, his Mate would surely die as well. Gaining his strength, he tore one of the tentacles and called out to Jack. She tossed him his shiv and he embedded it within the core of the creature, ending its existence.  
  
Riddick panted, tired from all this shit. He had not gotten decent enough sleep on the skiff for the two days they had been in space because Imam snored and his girl had been overly snuggly and he had seen more to her comfort than his own.  
  
He was going to enjoy that first bit of sleep he managed to get.  
  
The lights turned on and forced Riddick to slide his goggles back over his face. Chillingsworth complimented him. “The grace. The expression. The sheer… violence of it all. Exquisite. Such a performance… That only leaves me with one question… How will I ever have you mounted to do it justice?”  
  
Jack tossed Riddick his shiv when the woman was not looking. The convict raised his weapon, grunting quietly as he dug the explosive from his neck. The woman cried out and reached desperately for the detonator. He tossed the tiny bomb, grabbed his Mate and ran. The force still knocked him down. Jack helped him back up and the three remaining took off running, soon finding themselves in half-grav. He used his momentum and his powerful legs to continuously launch himself forward, glancing back every once in a while, to make sure him Mate was keeping up. She was struggling. Another thing to add to the list they would have to work on.  
  
Reaching regular gravity levels, Riddick found an air duct to the next level. Pulling himself up, he reached down and pulled Jack up easily. Her arms about his neck as he lifted her, he indulged for only a second, his large hands cupping her backside and squeezing gently, fingertips brushing the place he wanted to bury himself most. The girl gasped quietly, face going pink and her arousal blossoming within her scent. He quickly sat her down, feeling her put some distance between them and reached for the Chrislam priest to hoist him up as well.  
  
Riddick set the grating to rights and led the way. A growl rumbled out through the corridor. “What the hell was that?” Jack asked.  
  
“Don’t move.”  
  
A second roar then the rhythmic thumping of metal encased legs. Fuck. He hurried them forward and launched himself up onto a platform. On hands and knees, he reached for his Mate. A spotlight fell upon her back. “What the hell?” she cursed, crying out as shots were fired in their general direction. Thinking fast, Riddick jerked her up, letting go of her hands only to grab her by her belt and haul her bodily upwards and out of harm’s way.  
  
Riddick rolled them further out of the danger zone and crouched over her, lifting his goggles to better inspect her in the dim lighting. She sucked in a breath and brushed his side where he was bleeding. “Just a graze,” he assured her, smelling no fresh blood from her.  
  
Getting to his feet, he told the two others to run and to not stop. Unfortunately, his mate, with her shorter legs and weaker stamina couldn’t keep up. He made a decision and waited for the holy man and his mate. “We cannot stop,” Imam panted, hands on his knees beside the convict.  
  
“We’re not outrunning this thing. Not the three of us.”  
  
Jack lumbered to a stop a moment later, her breath also heavy, though not for the reasons he wanted. “What? I can keep up!” she insisted, desperate to not disappoint him.  
  
He shook his head. “Maybe someday,” he retorted. “Just not now.” He looked about and listened hard. “Get her to the flight deck,” he instructed the Chrislam priest. “Just aft, up a level.” He gestured to a crevice. “Stow in there and let whatever’s following pass first. Then make for the flight deck and don’t look back. No matter what you hear.” Jack froze and looked up at him with horror in her hazel-green eyes. “Don’t,” he grunted, smelling the building salt stink as her eyes took on a shine of tears at the implication of his possible abandoning her. He grasped the back of her neck, thumb resting over her fluttering pulse, and pressed their foreheads together. “I promise,” he muttered quietly, meant only for her to hear, “I will _always_ come find you… even if it takes a while.” He sealed him promise with a brief kiss. Then shoved her into the gap next to Imam and took off running, slicing his arm for added bait.  
  
Four people ran past a few minutes later before a giant creature came next, roaring horribly. Imam waited until there was deafening silence and snuck out into the corridor, making sure the coast was clear before gesturing for the girl to slide out into the open beside himself. “We have to help him, Imam,” Jack whispered, staring in the direction everyone and _thing_ had gone. “We can’t help him if we leave.”  
  
The holy man laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “Sometimes, little one,” he murmured, “that is exactly how it works.” He sighed. “I know I was not supposed to hear this… but he did promise to find you. I think, even though he knows the harshest forms of life, he would never lie. Not to you.” Jack bit her lip and hugged herself. Then she nodded and followed after the Chrislam priest as they headed for the hangar bay.  
  
Imam opened a panel that allowed him into the hangar bay through the floor and began to pull himself through, only to get bashed in the head. He grunted as he collapsed out of the way. Jack, not understanding what was happening, peeked her head out, only to gasp as she was wrenched upward violently. Coming face to face with the overly pale merc who had shoved a gun against her forehead, anger bubbled up inside her and she slammed her fists into his face. He didn’t even flinch. Instead he stepped over the access hatch and closed a strong hand about her throat, slamming her bodily into the side of one of the many ships docked and ready for dispatching. The girl choked against the unyielding grasp, giving him the bird before punching weakly against the forearm in vain.  
  
“Let her go,” came a rough snarl. The man turned his gaze over his shoulder, seeing the murderer approaching. “It’s me you’re after.” Junner released the girl, letting her slide down to the floor. She smacked her head and slid into unconsciousness. “You want a shot at the title?”  
  
The merc undid his jacket and threw it off to the side before taking his stance, his gun drawn. Riddick pulled out his much smaller shiv and the dark-haired man released his katana from his weapon, throwing the rest away, making it more of a fair fight. They observed each other and the convict moved in first, kicking the sword to the side and slashing at the merc, only to miss once… twice… three times. Junner got a punch in, making the shorter man stumble back a few steps, though he recovered quickly. He dodged a swipe of the long blade and got his own shot in.  
  
The two squared off again.  
  
Jack jerked to wakefulness and jerked upright, disoriented at the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, brutally. Her vision cleared and she blinked, trying to figure out what she was seeing. Her Mate was taking on the dark-haired scarecrow. Punches, kicks, swipes. The two were nearly evenly matched and her heart pounded in her chest, partly from worry, partly from excitement at getting to see him in action. The other kids back on Taurus 1 would never believe her if she were to meet up with them again and tell them she got to see Richard B. Riddick in action, unless he was right there with her. There was a moment when her Mate’s shiv got thrown away that had her sucking in a sharp breath, but he evened the score once more by twisting the man’s arm and causing him to drop the katana. Punches, kicks, and the occasional chops were traded next, only for the taller man to gain the upper hand, kicking Riddick back into a tool stand. He dropped to the floor with a pin filled grunt. A coil landed on the ground beside him and Jack wondered what he was going to do next.  
  
Riddick picked up the thick wire that controlled the lighting of the hangar bay and looped it about Junner’s throat just after her picked up his katana once more, pulling tight. Predictably, the coil was cut and the merc realized his mistake a moment too late. The brightness in the hangar bay died. Jack had a second for utter terror to race through her, mind snapping back to the planet they had escaped, phantom sonar of the hungry bio-raptors ringing eerily in her ears.  
  
A pain filled cry, too high in tenor to be Riddick’s snapped her back to the present. The emergency lighting slowly flickered back on, just in time for her to see the pale man fall back, dead as a doornail, the convict’s shiv embedded deeply into his left eye.  
  
“I told you that was coming,” Riddick muttered to the corpse, retrieving his weapon and wiping the blood off onto the fresh corpse’s white pants, staining the pristine material. He turned just in time to see Jack running up to him. Her arms encircled his neck and her body collided with his. He grunted, feeling fresh bruises forming on his strained muscles. Still, he could not deny her. Especially as she pulled back with worry clear in her gaze. The convict hummed quietly, kissing her forehead in silent assurance. “Go check the holy man.”  
  
Jack turned to do as she was bid. “Where are you going?” were his first words, seeing the dark clad figure walking away from himself and the child.  
  
“Gonna prep the ship and get the hell off this heap,” the younger man replied, holding onto his bicep where he hoped the humerus wasn’t fractured, though with the pain radiating from there, he was not so sure.  
  
“So… _we_ … can escape?” Imam knew, that if the convict truly wanted, he could either leave him there and take off with his young Mate or… kill him and still take off with his young Mate. The Chislam priest was the extra baggage and it was no guarantee that he would be leaving this place. Riddick surprised him by waving him to follow along.  
  
Imam smiled slightly. “And that… Mr. Riddick, _there_ is my god.” The convict paused, remembering that particular conversation, and laughed. Jack glanced between the two men, not understanding their conversation from when they had been loading the cells into the skiff. Turning to the girl, he added, “It is over. We have survived once more.”  
  
Riddick twisted the locking mechanism on the outside of the ramp to the small ship. It opened and in the entrance to the cargo hold stood Antonia Chillingsworth, looking less than her immaculate self as she had maybe only two or three hours previous. She was panting, her face contorted in utter rage. In her hand was an old fashioned revolver.  
  
_BANG!_  
  
Riddick fell back with a painfilled noise. “Back to hell with you, you bloody, stinking savage!” she screamed manically. She came closer, leveling the weapon to kill Richard B. Riddick once and for all.  
  
_BANG!_  
  
The woman fell back, her neck pouring blood while a starburst splatter of the copper-stinking fluid decorated the side of the ship. The convict turned, confused as to who had pulled the trigger, first thinking that perhaps the holy man might have surprised him. Instead, he witnessed his Mate slowly lowering Junner’s discarded gun. “Yeah…” she mumbled, hazel-green eyes flashing as her animal was born within her, “we made it.”  
  
_‘Her first kill,’, _Riddick realized absently.  
  
He stepped towards her slowly, and gently clutched her about the back of the neck once more, careful of the still smoking weapon between them. “Thank you,” he murmured, leaning over her and kissing her forehead. She lifted her gaze, the animal settling back down upon recognizing their Mate. “You did good. You saved me.” He stressed that last sentence. Her shoulders sagged and she dropped the gun to her side, suddenly pressed into him once more, animal hidden inside, seeking comfort which he gave. He purred gently for her for a minute.  
  
Imam broke their moment. “We should probably leave soon… before someone else comes.”  
  
Riddick kissed her forehead once more and led the way inside, Jack and the Chrislam priest trailing behind him. He could both hear and see his girl begin to grow sluggish, the way her shoulders drooped and her feet began to drag along the deck. He closed the ramp, sealing them inside and suggested her to explore and find somewhere for them to bunk down in. The ship was large enough to have at least one. She nodded, still gripping the gun as she did as instructed.  
  
Imam sat heavily beside Riddick once they had put the giant merc ship to their rudder. He spoke his name to make sure he had the convict’s attention. “Trouble?” There had better not be. He turned to look but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Heard nothing to raise suspicion.  
  
“It is nothing back there,” the holy man assured him as well. “What worries me… lies ahead of us.” He turned his head away from the goggled gaze. His Mate? “Yes… I… I am… concerned for her, Riddick. That she’ll become…” Words failed him here.  
  
His animal wanted to growl. He attempted to keep his voice even. “Like me?”  
  
The man had the sense to look sheepish. The convict took his booted feet from the console and turned fully towards the Chrislam priest, shiv still in its resting place within the pocket of his pants. “I’ll say this once,” the convict growled. “Jack is mine. She is _my_ Mate. It was only a matter of time before she gave birth to her own kind of animal. There’ll be no converting her now. And unless you can learn to live with that, there’s a second way off this ship for you.” Imam sighed and put his hands up in peace.  
  
One of the consoles beeped and the men both looked at it. A read out of the UV galaxy popped up. “What is that place?” Imam asked.  
  
Riddick switched it to their first stopping point, Hellion Prime, where he would be able to refuel and gather the things he would need for Jack and himself as they found a place to hide out for a bit to start her training before moving on. “That’s nowhere,” he insisted quietly. “I’m dropping you off at New Mecca.” He pressed a few more buttons to get them to put more distance between the three of them and the merc ship. He added, “Go find if there’s another bunk and get some sleep. It’ll be a few days before we get there.”  
  
Recognizing the dismissal, Imam shambled down the corridor and out of sight.  
  
Finally putting the ship on autopilot, with all sensors tuned to pick up anything that might come in range – meteors or comets, other ships, anything – Riddick followed Jack’s scent and discovered the room she had chosen for them. He closed the door behind himself, then picked up the sounds of the shower running. He smirked, dimming the lights to a tolerable level of the bedroom upon entry. The room was small and unadorned. The full-sized rack sat in the middle of the left wall, facing outward toward the only other doorway, with two drawers built in beneath. He figured it would be safe to assume there was a second set on the other side. On either side of the bed were shelving units built into the walls. It was here he tossed his goggles before he sat down onto the tick mattress, which sunk gently under his weight. The shiv went beneath one of the thick pillows while he could see the gun propped against the bed and the wall on the other side.  
  
Her side.  
  
The man’s heavy boots each hit the deck plate with a _ka- **thunk**_. He stood back up, nearly groaning at the feeling of his feet being freed from the confines of his shoes for the first time in… a long time. His spine popped like a hundred kernels of corn in a pan as he stretched. Peeling off his clothes, he tossed them by the already established pile she had made with hers by the doorway. He’d figure out what to do with them all later. Maybe there was a wash machine tucked away somewhere. He wouldn’t have Jack running around in nothing. Not in front of Imam, at least. Right now, though, a shower sounded amazing. A shower with his Mate, on the other hand… The blood in his body suddenly had a focal point to flow towards.  
  
It had been _so_ fucking long…__

* * *

____

____

Riddick flinched when he opened the door to the bathroom and saw how brightly lit it was. He lowered the illumination in here as well, seeing her look up in surprise through the translucent glass door of the shower stall. The bathroom was warm and steamy. The mirror was half-fogged up. “I hope you saved some for me, baby girl,” he rumbled out.  
  
Jack opened the door and shyly peeked up at him with pink cheeks. She pushed back into the far corner to make room for him. It gave him the chance to look her over. His animal was… displeased – not with her, but the condition she was in. Seeing her now in all her naked glory, her limbs were a touch too thin to be healthy and as he had suspected, her ribs, while not protruding were almost visible. Her chest was near board-flat, with only the slightest bit of extra tissue around the small areolas, though her hips and buttocks had an extra layer of tissue. Once he got her fed regularly, he figured she would begin to fill out nicely.  
  
Riddick sighed in quiet relief of the steam swirling about him, stepping into the shower and closing the cold door behind himself. He shuffled beneath the hot spray and closed his shined eyes, the water pounding down onto the tightened muscles in his shoulders and back before coursing down over the rest of his sore body in rivulets, dragging off the top layer of dirt, sweat, and blood with it. Jack looked at the floor and let out a breath of a laugh, causing him to search for the source of her amusement. “You’re even worse off than I was,” she grinned sheepishly. She was indeed correct; the puddle of water swirling about their feet was darkening quickly with all the dirt and blood coming off of the convict before it ran down the drain.  
  
Through half lidded eyes, Riddick watched the wisp of a girl before him as she took the already sudsy loofa and added a bit more gel to it, the smell of chemically produced sage reaching his nose. Not unbearable though. Hazel-green eyes flitted up towards him. Cautious. Hopeful. Nervous. The man nodded his permission, watching as she slowly pressed the soap covered poof against his defined abdominal muscles and gently swiped it over his skin. “You’ll have to scrub harder than that,” he chuckled. He gently took her wrist and applied pressure, guiding her in the way he knew he needed to actually be cleaned. Her confidence regained itself and soon she was scrubbing at the desired pressure.  
  
The animal in him purred as his Mate took care of him, though he tried to swallow his amusement that she had yet to scrub his genitals. She hadn’t shied away from his legs or his backside, though. Finally, her shoulders squared and the loofa dipped down. He couldn’t hold back the groan at the coarse feel of the poof over him. She froze eyes wide. “Didn’t hurt me,” he assured her quickly. “Haven’t been touched there for a long while.” He heard her swallow but she began to scrub him once more under his direction until he was fully clean.  
  
The loofa slipped from her fingers and Jack paused. “You can touch me,” Riddick rumbled out, anticipation beginning to build within him. The girl didn’t hesitate this time as her fingers brushed over the hardening flesh. He swallowed a hiss.  
  
_So, so, so_ fucking long…  
  
He reached down and gently wrapped her small fingers around his shaft. He let out a heavy breath as she twisted her grip around him, inspecting him. She made a noise as her touch discovered the large vein on the underside of his dick and ran her digits up and down it, feeling it out.  
  
“That’s good,” he encouraged his Mate, voice a bit hoarse. “Like that.” He let out a groan as she tightened her fingers a bit about his length. “Good girl.” He reached out and cupped her backside, bringing her a step closer to him so her side brushed his own. She trembled despite the warm water and glanced up shyly beneath her thick lashes. Her movements slowed. “Don’t fucking tease,” he growled out, desperate for the continued pleasure. He let out a hiss as one of her fingers rounded about the head of him and swiped the bead of pre-cum from his slit. She peered at the white substance and lifted it to her mouth, licking it with a frown. His hands jerked, reaching behind himself and finding purchase with the metal bar attached to the wall so he did not grab her and suddenly bury himself deep inside. He wanted to get more in the future and it would not do to scare her.  
  
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Jack asked quickly.  
  
“No, fuck no,” Riddick nearly snarled, his cock harder than he could remember in a long time. It strained, thick and darkened towards his Mate, silently begging for her returned attentions. “That feels so fucking good.” Then he got an idea. “Lean against me,” he moved her how he wished, “like this. Now step a bit closer and spread your legs a bit.” He ran his fingers down her knobby spine to the small curve of her ass. “If you don’t like something, or if it hurts, you tell me to stop.” Jack nodded.  
  
Reaching past her backside, Riddick found her anus and passed it. Not that he wasn’t interested in breaking that in… _eventually_ … but he had been able to smell the innocence on her skin since he first scented her. Now that he had her, he had nothing but time to teach her not only all the different ways to give and receive pleasure but also finding out anything and everything that pushed her to that brink of insanity.  
  
Fingering her labia, the convict felt the natural juices slicking her up. Jack shuddered but spread her legs a bit wider, her hand faltering only slightly in its movement over his length, her breath catching. He smirked and allowed his index finger to penetrate the outer lips. He groaned; she was tight. He was going to have to go slowly after giving her at least one orgasm so her muscles wouldn’t be so tense. This would be a first for him. Pressing his finger a bit deeper, he slowly pulled it out before repeating the process. Jack’s breath puffed heavily across his chest, her grip tightening spasmodically over him and causing him to grunt at the pressure. His balls were already beginning to tighten. He was going to up his game if he wanted her finish right along with him.  
  
Pulling his hand from where it circled around her, Riddick grinned at the displeased noise that clawed out of Jack’s throat, her eyes flicking up to his own. Her pupils were blown wide. Instead of continuing to circle around her back and between her legs, he caught her around the small of her back, reached over her far hip and touched her from the front, his index delving right back inside of her as his thumb found her clitoris. Jack cried out, her body stiffening at the feeling shooting through her.  
  
Riddick’s ego swelled up a bit as her hips thrust against him, her grip spasmming over his penis almost painfully. Circling the nub, he pressed a second finger into her hot, pulsing depths, the muscles beginning to tighten even more as he brought her closer to the edge.  
  
“Riddick,” her voice came out in a breathy whine, eyes clenched tightly closed.  
  
“Don’t fight it,” he growled voice deeper and rougher than ever before. “Ride it out with me.” She was panting heavily, hips pressing against his hand as her own jerked back and forth over him. He let out a roar as his peak hit, hearing Jack let out her own nonsensical cry as her vagina tightened painfully around his fingers.  
  
Riddick’s grip tensed about his Mate as her legs gave out, his own protesting the added weight. He slid them to the shower floor, arranging her into his lap, the only sounds being the shower water hitting them and the tile and their ragged breathing. “Is it always like that,” Jack sighed, head tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder.  
  
The convict chuckled. “It gets better, sweetness,” he promised. Struggling, he lifted them both and shut off the water, everything protesting against movement and activity. He dried the pair of them half-heartedly and trudged them both into bed. Putting himself between his Mate and the door, Riddick felt her snuggle up against him, her naked body sliding deliciously against his own. He smirked, her breathing having already evened out. Wrapping an arm about her, he called for the lights to go full dark. His animal purred finally content and he allowed himself to slip into the void of dreamless, refreshing sleep.  
  
  
When Riddick woke next, it was to a soft touch gently tracing over the Mark tattooed above his heart. Keeping his eyes closed and breathing even, he allowed his Mate to do as she wished. She made a quite hum and he could smell her giddiness on her skin. She wanted to do something and he had a feeling he knew what, but she was hesitating. The convict let out a sigh, as if he was still unconscious and shifted his body, drawing the sheets down lower upon them with his feet. He heard Jack gulp.  
  
The man had to bite the inside of his cheek when he felt Jack’s hand slowly move through the thatch of hair surrounding his penis before lighting onto the beginning erection. She ran her fingers over him in continued exploration, her breathing picking up slightly as his dick responded to her touch, slowly hardening beneath the smooth skin casing. Abandoning her examination of his shaft, her fingers wandered down to his testicles, gently prodding them and testing their weight.  
  
Riddick let out a soft moan as her thumb pressed between them, massaging him. “Keep that up, baby girl, and I’m going to pin you to the bed,” he rumbled out, breaking the silence. Jack froze for only a second and he could feel the heat build in her cheeks upon his chest at having gotten caught. He breathed in and smelled her arousal. “I think you want me to,” he growled.  
  
Jack slowly propped herself up and met his gaze, her cheeks flushed, pupils getting bigger, and her scent becoming more enticing. She nodded, swallowing. That was all he needed.  
  
Riddick sat up abruptly, bringing her with him and pushing her to kneel beside him. He slanted his mouth over her own, tasting, dominating. Her hands had jerked up immediately to his shoulders and one of his hands draws them further over, pulling her closer before grabbing her naked thigh and helping her swing over his own. He pressed her chest to his own as his tongue invaded and conquered her mouth, finding every nook and cranny and then teaching her tongue how to dance with his own. He rubbed both hands down her back, settling on her hips and slotting her over him. He could feel the dampness already building as he pressed his length against her, but not inserting. Not yet.  
  
Instead, Riddick guided her hips back and forth above him, slicking his penis up as her arousal grew. Keeping on hand at the flare of her waist, the other lifted and brushed the little areola, feeling her stiffen at the unexpected touch. “Good?” He had to make sure.  
  
Jack nodded. “Yes,” she panted, pupils blown wider. “I…” she let out a shaky breath, grinding her hips against his cock. “I need… something…” She sounded embarrassed that she didn’t know but he did. He promised that he would take care of her.  
  
“I got you, sweetness,” he assured her, kissing her between her eyes.  
  
The slippery wetness of his cunt has him drenched now and he knows it will slide a bit easier. Still, he will have to go slow despite this being the best feeling he had experienced in years. Lifting her easily with one hand, he took hold of his rigid cock with the other and aligned himself with her entrance, slowly slipping himself inside. He paused every inch, watching her face for discomfort and it was killing him. All he wanted, desperately, was to sink himself deep inside of her and have her ride him until they both climaxed.  
  
Jack suddenly moved and Riddick found himself impaling her fully. She whimpered and stiffened as the sudden bite of fresh copper reaches his senses. Tears built in the corner of her eyes. “It won’t hurt after this,” he promised her, rubbing her spine gently. She nodded.  
  
Tucking a finger beneath her chin, Riddick kissed her once more, determined for her to be distracted from her pain. She gave herself fully into it, humming happily. Her hips shifted and she let out a quiet moan. He smirked and finally began to thrust, though he kept them slow and shallow as to gauge her for any residual pain. Her green-brown eyes are dark but there seems to be no discomfort, not anymore. In fact, she began to push back and he has to swallow a snarl of desire.  
  
When his name began to become a prayer on her panting throat, Riddick sped up his thrusts, gripping her hips harder and pressing as deeply as he could go. He can feel her getting tighter. Her eyes flash wildly and he can see the animal, her animal rearing up inside her, soaking up the pleasure. She needs just a little more. One of his thumbs reached down and swiped over her swollen clit. Jack was suddenly crying out his name and her whole body began to shudder above him. The convict felt his own balls draw up – just a few more strokes, just a few more –and let out a roar as he found his end, joining her in ecstasy. The light that flashed behind his eyes was purple and blue, brilliant, almost agonizing, but he could care less as the pure pleasure moved through every inch of his body, making it all sing.  
  
Jack was once more draped over his chest as he came back to himself. He smirks, realizing he was still buried inside and not quite flaccid. “Told you it got better.” His voice might have been a touch smug.  
  
“You’re right,” she nodded, meeting his gaze. “It does…” She shifted against him and paused. “Did you not…?”  
  
He smirked. “Oh, I did,” he assured her. “I’m just ready for round two.” Jack smirked and he could see her animal grinning right along with her.


End file.
